


The Black Sheep

by TotalFanFreak



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Gen, Leather Kink, Mild Sexual Content, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan (Walking Dead) is an automatic warning, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Negan Smut Week, POV Female Character, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sexual Frustration, Top Negan (Walking Dead), Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanFreak/pseuds/TotalFanFreak
Summary: Being Spencer Monroe's little sister meant a lot of things, namely, you didn't fit in with being his little sister. But apparently the Savior leader knows something that can fit.





	

The Black Sheep

[A/N - Finally participating in something lol, here’s to maybe doing decently. I decided to post a few things for NeganSmutWeek, and this kind of scenario was whirring in my head a few times. I did want to do Spencer/Negan, because I haven’t touched slash in a while but my brain went to a dark place with it and I don’t want to be committed. So this is what you’ll get instead. Thanks!]

 

Gif by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

Another sunny day, another hot ass sunshiny day, you groaned throwing the pillow towards the window hoping to make the light disappear. You turned on your back, already feeling beads of sweat forming between your breasts. It was early, you always woke up early, and it was going to be a long day; a long day to go along with a long night. You could feel the frustration already building within your chest, it had been too long since you had been touched and it was slowly killing you. Your own hand was not cutting it anymore and you were about to threaten someone to fix the damn problem. You sighed, you know you wouldn’t. It didn’t help that everyone in Alexandria seemed to be paired off and the ones that weren’t didn’t seem interested in sex at all.

Then there was the way your brother looked at you. Fucking Spencer, he looked at you the same way your mother looked at you. Like you breathing wrong would drag the rest of them through the grinder. You missed them though, and you were glad to have your brother with you now. You knew he cared about you, he protected you, listened to you, assured you as a big brother does, but like your mother he cared about appearances more. And he knew you cared, hell you wouldn’t have traveled from the other side of the country if you hadn’t. After getting to Ohio and only finding a note telling you to head to Virginia you combed the area, about to give up when you were picked up by scouters taking you to the Safe Zone. Being brought in and seeing him, he had run to you, crying, hugging you for dear life, and you had hugged back.

But as time went on he watched you, making sure you weren’t going to do something to upheave the swing of things. Though that made you laugh, you didn’t get much from your mom, but one thing you did that your brothers didn’t was knowing when to keep your mouth shut. And, God, Spencer never did. You had always been an outsider in the family, after reaching puberty only remaining close with your dad. He would tell you stories of the protests him and your mom had went to, that standing up during those times were what got her into politics. You enjoyed politics, the arguing part anyways, you had been in debate club every year it was available. But it wasn’t your goal, it hadn’t been what you wanted. And when you told your parents you wanted to go to art school your mother had been livid.

“And what exactly do you think you’re going to do with that degree, Y/N? Do you think you’re going to sing and dance for food? You think a masterpiece is going to pay your bills?”

You had yelled back, she sang and danced all the time up there at that podium, giving the people what they wanted. No, you knew you wouldn’t be rich, but you’d be happy, even if you never got anywhere you could say you went after what you wanted. Instead of taking the easy way and using your name in a field that you didn’t want to be in. But then things had gotten worse when your mother had found out that you slept with a teacher. Honestly, you couldn’t remember how it evolved into something sexual, but you didn’t regret it. He was older, and for some reason you had always been more attracted to older men.

“You may have unresolved issues with your father, Y/N.”

Hmph, so said the therapist your mother coerced you to see after the ‘incident.’ Maybe it was because they knew what they were doing, or maybe it was because it felt a little wrong either way having yourself sprawled out on a desk while he plunged into was something that got you off…multiple times. Leading up to the therapist to diagnose you as hypersexual. You brushed that off, you didn’t sleep with every fucking guy that looked at you, which were a lot of guys. You just got horny all the time; it didn’t mean you jumped somebody to alleviate the pulsing between your thighs. Like now.

And you knew that was another reason Spencer watched you, in fear you would fuck your way through the older men in the group. Funny enough, you kind of would have if you were given the chance. At least a choice few. But you knew better, so to ease the aching you took your frustrations out the way you were taught as a child – cleaning. You kept every inch of the house you shared with your brother spotless. And if there wasn’t anything to clean here you offered to clean for others. Maybe you’d clean the cars today, hell, maybe you could go out on a run and kill a few walkers. Usually the adrenaline rush of not getting bit tapered the frustration down. Getting up you washed off, making pancakes as you gathered the supplies you’d need. You threw some of the pancakes on a plate for Spencer when he woke up, and made your way to the vehicles.

Beginning by taking the car mats out and shaking them you set to work emptying out the garbage that had been left in there.

“Good morning there, Y/N, fine day today.”

You bonked your head on the dash to look up. “Good morning, Eugene. Working on something?”

You could probably fuck Eugene, but you were pretty sure he and Rosita had something going. Though neither one would admit it. Also you weren’t sure if he would actually have sex with you. He seemed more in the realm of – I’ll watch you get yourself off while I get myself off. And you needed a participant; you needed someone to touch you to reach the peak.

“I am working on an audio system; hope to get it done before they arrive.”

Your spine bristled, you knew who they were. More specifically who he was – Negan. You hate to say it, but there was an ‘I told you so’ somewhere in this. When Mr. Grimes had come up with the idea to take out everyone at the satellite post, you had brought up that there could be more than one post that they had. That something bad could come from it, and it had, the man that taught you to shoot a rifle, who had quick jabs and a great sense of humor, the guy that let you try his cigar and patted your back when you choked half to death on it – Abraham – lost his life. Then Glenn, God, he was the first person to talk to you without the judgement of being a Monroe. He had been sweet and considerate. He had become a good friend, a best friend, and now he was gone. So was Sasha, so was Maggie, it took her longer to warm to you, especially with how much time you spent with her husband, but after reassurance of the type of men you preferred she had come around and so had you.

“What are you doing?”

Glancing behind, you smirked. “Good morning to you, dear brother.”

He snorted, throwing a bag into the car. “We already signed out for this car.”

“I was only cleaning it. So where are you going? Maybe I could come and help.”

Rosita came to the driver’s side and smiled at you. “That’s not a bad idea, I doubt Eugene’s going to volunteer to go.”

“I don’t believe I’d be up to that.”

“Sounds about right.”

“You don’t need to go, Y/N, you need to stay here –“

“I’m fully capable of pulling my own weight, Spence.”

“I’m aware of that, I’m not saying you aren’t.”

“I figured we’d have each other’s backs out there, it’s not like I’m going to amble off somewhere.”

“You could, you have.”

“Once! And we found someone who was hurt! You wanted to ignore it!”

“Children, please, I say she goes.”

“Thank you, Rosita.”

“Us chicas need to stick together.”

“Damn right, like to leave his ass here.”

“Hey!”

You were about to argue again, but then there was a sound of someone approaching the gates.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in!”

Not by the hair on my chinny chin-chin.

Spencer went up to the gate. Oh, damn, your eyes widened as everything below your waist started to flood. Oh my God, he’s the bad guy? Watching the two banter, your body started to quiver. Thankfully, by the way Mr. Grimes patted your shoulder in comfort as he passed by the quiver could be misinterpreted as fear. You started to collect your things, as you heard the thud of a walker falling.

“Come on, Y/N.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to go.”

He was seething, Spencer wanted you out of the man’s range. “Just get in the damn car, Y/N.”

“You told me to stay, I’m going inside.”

Spencer took your elbow, and you knew you were going to have to hit him though your hands were full.

“Now, what’s going on here? Where I’m from men don’t treat their women like that, especially such a fine specimen.”

The blood pumping through your veins went faster, a slight echo in your ears. “He’s my brother.”

“Aha, sibling rivalry still alive and well. Hate to tell you sport but if the lady wants to stay she’s staying. So vamoose.”

Being so much closer you couldn’t help but look at the man. Slicked back hair, dark eyes, and leather. Then there was the bat, barbed wires holding chunks of walker flesh as blood dripped to the concrete.

“You like her, sweetheart? I think she likes you.”

“She?”

He chuckled, the sound making you clench your center. “My Lucille. There’s not many people she tolerates, but she’d make an exception for you. Want to hold her?”

Your hand shook as it reached out, and as abrupt his hand shot out and took yours, grabbing it with enough pressure as he flexed your hand around the bat. Not taking his hands away as you gripped it.

“You like to hold it?”

You bit your lip and nodded wanting to hold onto something else when Mr. Grimes cut in.

“That’s enough, you’re tormenting her.”

That was true, just not in the way he was thinking. But it was enough to send some sense back to you, looking down at the bat, the one that killed your friends. You gently pried yourself from his grip, handing off the bat back to him.

“Thank you for letting me try it, Mr. Negan.”

You weren’t making eye contact but you heard his chortle. “Mr. Negan? I like that.”

“I don’t know your last name.”

“Mr. Negan will be fine, sweetheart. And what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

He licked his lips taking a step closer to you. “Y/N what?”

“Monroe.”

“Well, Miss Monroe it has been something else to meet your fucking acquaintance.”

“Y/N, go back home for now, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

You waved goodbye to your brother, inhaling as you walked by Negan who chuckled excitedly.

“Yes sir, no sir, mister, and all that shit, I fucking love it!”

You blushed still walking towards your home. He had no idea why you did that. It was a rule, a reminder. Anyone with a mister or earned the respect of sir was strictly off limits. It was easy with guys like Glenn and Carl. Those rules were obvious, but the ones you saw in a different shade you had to remind yourself. And that’s what you were going to do with him. He was going to leave eventually anyways.

Getting inside you took the frazzled state you were in and started to make soup. Chopping feverishly until the temperature inside you went down. Oiling the pan and throwing in the onions to sautéed you let your attention go to the food, the scents helping abate the twinge between your legs. After a while you were almost back to normal, deciding to go on a run after lunch to get rid of any lingering anxiety. Then there was a pounding on your door and your nerves blazed back up. Opening the door you saw Mr. Grimes, looking as bad as you had felt, sweat running down his sideburns as he puffed for breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“Two guns, two guns are missing, we need to find them, or he’s going to kill Olivia. I need you to search your house, I’m not saying anyone of you took them, or that it was wrong, but we got to get them. I’m going to search my house, just try to look, please.”

“Of course.”

With that he fled, his frenzied state making you feel bad. Yeah, you had some idea where the guns could be, it had been a tradition between you, Spencer and Aiden. None of you were perfect, and often you would steal each other’s things so to prevent it the three of you made different hiding places. Usually they were in the floors, but damn, they could be in books or anything, and Mr. Grimes seemed to need the guns now. So you bounced along the floors hoping to hear a familiar creak, looking for anything out of place on the walls and shelves. In the living room you smiled, feeling the floor board give slight way under your weight. Taking a knife to get the board loose, you found liquor and mom’s jewelry, old army handbooks, some knives, and the guns. Dear God, Spencer.

Going outside you looked for Mr. Grimes, seeing no one on the streets but the Saviors. One of which was bothering Enid.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The man was startled. “And what the fuck is it to you?”

“We’re family here, and you don’t just screw with us. Over what? Balloons? What the hell’s wrong with you? You’re a grown ass man, and you’re fucking with an underage girl, you sick fuck?”

You went to wrench the balloons from the man, gasping when the guy grabbed your wrist. “How dare you fucking talk to me that way.”

“What is going on here?”

You didn’t want to look at him, but you answered. “One of your lackeys is bullying a young girl, which I think is fucked up.”

His chuckle shook you. “I may be one to agree with that. Davey! Leave the kids alone.”

“And give her back her balloons.”

Chancing a peek you saw Negan smiling at you. “And give the girl back her damn balloons. She’s right that is bullshit to fight a girl over, Davey, why don’t you quit being a dumbass and help the others do what we actually fucking came here for.”

“Yes sir.”

Passing Enid her balloons, Negan patted her on the head, earning a sharp look from the teen.

“You got your shit back, run along before I decide different.”

With a backwards glance Enid went back up towards the graves. You watched her go out of sight before you heard coughing.

 

Gif by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

“You see that sweetheart, yes sir, no sir, I love that shit.”

You felt your cheeks redden as you passed him the bag.

“And what’s this?”

“What you were looking for, Mr. Negan.”

“Oho, I see, perhaps you won’t have to dig a grave today. Now, where’d you find them?”

You stiffened, no, no matter what you’d never rat on your brother.

“I don’t think it matters –“

“Well, I fucking do! We need to get everyone here on board with this shit or we’re going to go back to square fucking one.”

He seemed to be off in his own world and you wondered if you could just leave. Plotting an escape route, you felt a hand direct you back to face him.

“Sorry?”

He grinned. “How about a yessir, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir?”

You weren’t sure what you were saying yes to but thought better than to question it.

“I know what you’re wanting.”

“Oh?”

That laugh. “Damn straight I do. You think I don’t see it? That flush in your cheeks, your pupils dilated, not to fucking add how you keep fidgeting your damn legs like you got an itch you can’t scratch. Well, I can sweetheart. I can scratch pretty fucking good too.”

Your mouth gaped. You thought you had hid it, but apparently not.

“I’d fuck you so good, sweetheart, you have no idea the things I’d do to you.”

You couldn’t help but smack your lips. “Like what?”

He threw his head back, a straining groan coming from his throat. His eyes piercing yours as your heart sped up.

“Well, unless you want this to be outside; how about you take me to your house, sweetheart.”

You nodded, dumbly, hoping to keep some composure until you got there. You kept a look out for anyone who might be on the street, anyone who might have the need to question you later.

“So this is home sweet home?”

It was odd seeing a man like him among such average settings. You didn’t mind it, but it didn’t quite fit either. He tilted his head before looking at you.

“So good lookin’ whatcha got cookin’ in here?”

“Oh, fuck, my soup.”

You could hear him chuckling as you sprinted to the kitchen, a good bit had stuck to the bottom, but as far as you could tell it hadn’t burned. Turning the stove off you placed the pot on the back burner. You felt large hands on your side and you gulped.

“Since we know the house isn’t going to burn now, how about you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and you smiled. “Ha, see there, I ain’t that bad, sweetheart. You look sexier when you smile.”

“Thank you, so do you.”

“We don’t got to be fucking formal here.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to be around you. Especially since…”

“I clocked a few of your friends out?”

“Please don’t go there with this.”

“Hmmm. Fine, how about tell me what you want instead.”

You blanched. “I thought that was obvious when I brought you in here.”

“Maybe, and maybe I need a little instruction.”

You walked away from the front windows, taking your shirt off as you walked away. You could hear his hum of appreciation, unbuttoning your jeans to add to the pile.

“I want you to fuck me, Negan.”

His smile was wolfish. “I’m happy to oblige, sweetheart, though I am a tad disappointed that you dropped the mister.”

“I only say mister to the ones I can’t have. I’m praying I can have you.”

“Praying, huh? Who am I to stand in the way of someone’s convictions? Though, I am afraid it’s up to Lucille.”

“Lucille?”

He held the bat between the two of you letting the barbs catch on the fabric of your bra and panties.

“You see, she doesn’t like to be left out, and I don’t want her to be jealous. So let her have a little fun and show her how much you want me.”

He held the bat out to you and you took a limp hold. “You’re serious?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Very.”

You watched him take off his jacket, settling down in the recliner, as he gestured to the couch.

You sat, legs shaking a little, as you unclasped your bra, you weren’t sure what exactly you were going to do but dammit you needed something. The end was still bloody, though it had dried and there was no way you were going to let it touch you. But the handle.

“You’re dawdling, sweetheart.”

 

Gif by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

Glancing to him, you saw him smirking, his chin resting in the leather gloved palm. Dropping your panties you heard him whistle. “Goddamn, I can see how wet you are from over here. Tell me, sweetheart, did I do that?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes sir.”

He closed his eyes, leaning back as he unbuckled his belt. You groaned at the sight of him, thick and ridged, the purple vein already pulsing.

“Show me, sweetheart and you can have it.”

Leaning back in the same stance as him, you spread your legs and placed Lucille’s grip between them. His eyes widened a fraction as you placed your feet on the coffee table, giving you footing to grind against her. God, it was already better than your hand.

His voice was breathless. “Let me see, sweetheart.”

You let one of your feet drop to the floor, taking Lucille and letting the knob collide with your clit. You groaned, the hard friction what you were wanting, yet it hurt. It had been too long and you needed a smoother ease in.

“God, look how wet you got my dirty girl.”

You jumped from how close the voice had become. Looking down in time to see Negan’s tongue dart out and swipe over Lucille before connecting with the top of your mons. You jerked your hips wanting more contact and he smiled.

“I think you made Lucille happy, maybe I should do the same for you.”

You nodded hungrily, earning a laugh that vibrated between your thighs. Moving Lucille, you felt his lips meet your core and you slackened into a puddle on the couch. He traced each crevice with the tip of his tongue before gliding it over your clit.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you little clit here’s harder than a toothpick. How long has it been for you?”

“I try…by myself mostly, but I –“

“How long with a man?”

“About…about four years.”

“Four fucking years! You’re telling me in all that time no man has laid a finger on you?”

“None wanted to, I guess, most of them are taken.”

“Fuck sake’s, sweetheart, I have six wives and I can’t resist you.”

You ignored that comment, not wanting to know how many women he’s been with; instead you enjoyed the suction he was applying. Trying to suck in as much of your cunt as he could, you let your hand fall into his hair letting your hips buck in his face. It was when the leather glove touched you that you began to lose it.

“Oh, fuck, daddy, yes!”

His head jerked up and you groaned. “Daddy? Fuck the mister and onto daddy now?”

You ran your free hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, I –“

“Oh, no little girl, there’s no need to be sorry here. Daddy’s going to give you exactly what you need.”

The hand went back to work, sliding over dampened folds, the cold exterior making you wriggle. A finger circled your entrance, and you moved to try and get the digit in.

“God, I see that little opening clenching for me. You’re so ready for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, please.”

“I love hearing that. Say it again.”

“Yes, sir, please, please fill me up with your huge cock.”

He chuckled. “How can I say no when you beg like that.”

And without warning he came up and plunged into you, making you give a soft scream. It was bliss, it was heaven, a revelation. To be filled to the hilt, feeling him at every angle of you. You could feel your body shaking and to send you over the edge you felt his mouth take a nipple, biting hard. Your body spasmed, your cum coating his length even further. You panted, feeling his lips at your ear.

“We haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

“More daddy, please.”

He groaned, dropping his head into your neck as he picked up your waist, angling you to plunge in as far as he could. He wrenched your head back, sucking your collarbone until it left marks.

“Harder daddy!”

He pulled out then, making you cry out. Before you could drag him back, he pushed your legs up to your ears diving back into you. Your thighs would ache but the fullness you had now, the way the vein on his cock thrummed the nerve endings inside you, oh, it was worth it. His pace was relentless, gripping you tighter until his knuckles turned white. You pushing back with everything you had.

“You want daddy’s cum in you?”

“I’d rather have it in my mouth.”

“Oh, dirty girl. Well, you better get ready to open wide.”

You were, the thrusts already bringing you over, as he pulled out, reaching for the back of your head as his seed spurted onto you. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, very little of it had gotten into your mouth, but coated your breasts and face.

“That’s a wonderful sound right there, sweetheart.”

“I’m finally sated. Fuck, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t say I was through with you yet.”


End file.
